Iago looks at the armored customer who came in after him. Seeing no objection, he steps forward. "My name is Iago," he offers. "I did not come here to purchase blades. I came here to...consult with you, about a legend. Of Durgeddin of Khundrukar."

"I do not need a new blade, as I have a perfectly good one right here." Fae'shiel says patting the hilt of her new scimitar. She then says "We did come to find out if you could translate the writing on this bracelet for us." Indicating herself and Marcus as well as displaying the bracelet that she was wearing.

The dwarf frowns slightly as neither the half-orc nor the elf are interested in his blades. However, with the mention of the legendary weaponsmith, he cocks an eye up at the half-orc.

"Iago, huh? I have heard o' dat famous name an' I even saw what was rumored to be one o' da legendary axes he forged. Turned out to be fake, though. Da weapons be purty rare, ya ken. Durgeddin died o'er a hunderd yars ago."

"Even if he dun survived da fall of Glitterhame, he was not immortal to be yet alive."
Giving a glance at the elf, he replies, "Fine blade, huh? Ya wanna show it to me, lass?" The blacksmith appears to me more interested in weapons that being a scholar and translator.

Fae'shiel shrugs and withdraws the sword from it's scabbard. In doing so she says to the dwarf "I advise not touching it. I can't be certain, but I don't think this Scimitar would appreciate it." having said this she fully extends the blade from it's sheath, the blade is a finely crafted scimitar made of a strange black polished metal. It is not ornately decorated the way one would expect from such a finely crafted weapon, but it still has a sense of elegance and beauty to it that defies what would be assumed to be natural for a weapon of it's type.

Iago seems about to speak, but holds his tongue. The dwarf seems disinclined to conversation, but the allure of the elven woman's blade seems to have piqued his interest. The half-orc waits, scrolls in hand, while the weaponsmith examines the blade.

With the Human now otherwise occupied, Marcus' meanderings brings him to a display of as yet undecorated but finely made daggers. He kneels down to eye a pair next to one another on the bottom row, and is near enough to hear when the Blacksmith speaks. He looks around and stands and nods politely in greeting when Fae'shiel indicates him. He remains quiet, letting Fae'shiel perform in her element.

I fight beneath this flag against the Darkness. Pay no attention to the cost in land and lives, this war must be won by the light!

The dwarf looks up at the elf with a raised eyebrow of bushy gray hair. "It'd not like it?"

Not really understanding, he nonetheless follows the advice and looks at the scimitar's blade without touching it. He gives the elven lass instructions to draw it fully out and turn it over, this way and that as he inspects weapon.

He harrumphs satisfactorily, "It appears to bare da mark of Dergeddin. Tho, der be some other marks I not be seein' before. I'd not thought, da legendary smith made many scimitars. It be excellent work."

He gestures appreciatively to Fae'shiel that he is finished looking at the blade and he looks to Iago.

GM:

I am still expecting the others to role-play, btw. No lurking in your own game, please.

Sorry not lurking just posting anything significant THU-SUN is getting to be harder and harder.

Hoping the dwarf is not the typical merchant that would throw everyone out for not wanting to buy something, Markas takes another good look at the shields hanging along the wall.

They all looked to be of a higher quality than his own, but even so the familiar weight and design of his old shield would be hard for the warrior to part with, unless he needed to purchase one to stay and ask about the hammer. One of the shields held a reinforced outer edge that had nicks from blocking weapons and four metal studs used to hold on the shield's strap upon it's bluish-grey face. Each stud had carved a dwarven face upon it, grim and determined."I'm sorry to disturb Master Ironhammer, but may I try this shield on for a moment?" Markas asks before he realizes what he dwarf had just said to the elven woman.

"Mark of Dergedinn?" he says in surprised awe."Wait! Does it look like this?" he asks drawing forth the light hammer once more and turning it over to show the rune under the head.

Iago seems intrigued that the elf's blade might be that of the smith he sought. Were the gods playing games with his fate? It seemed uncharacteristic of them to take an interest in a half-orc.

He was about to address his question to the smith when the stranger interjected, asking about a shield. The half-orc paused again, knowing the smith would likely resent someone standing between him and his livelihood. Iago waits again, poker-faced, even as the warrior raises a question about his own weapon.